A Long Time Coming
by Sxvgwii
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is a law student in America and upon a chance encounter, rediscovers his childhood friend and learns that there is more than meets the eye. Bad summary is bad, rated M for foul language and later chapters. Updated with the CORRECT story!
1. Movie Night

**So, this story is going to be a trip to write nonetheless. Mostly USUK with some side pairings such as PruHun, Gerfem!Ita, Spamano, FrCan and the like. Story has it's sad moments and ratings may change later on ;P**

**I'm trying to keep pretty well to the facts, but I'm American, so excuse me if I get some things wrong. There are some historical tidbits I'll probably throw in for fun, but we're just see how this goes shall we? Also, I'll be throwing flashbacks in at random points to give you a background story. But if you've read anything I've written, you know that I love flashback scenes and they're common.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing and everything belongs to its respective owners.**

Movie Night.

It was a sacred tradition in the Jones' household growing up, and Alfred F. Jones (the "F" is very important, mind you) had made sure to carry on the tradition well into his college years.

The final pop signified the end of the popcorn's time in the microwave, a glorious buttery smell wafting throughout the apartment as Alfred opened the microwave door and took out the steaming bag. Carefully, he dumped it into a large red Tupperware bowl and cradled the bowl into his arms as well as stacking similar bowls of various sizes, filled with pretzels and chips. Last but not least, a box of Whoppers and Sour Patch Kids were balanced on top of the teetering pile before he made his way into the living room.

The lights were already turned off as Alfred carefully weaved his way around the furniture, careful to not knock his shins against the damn ancient steamer trunk that his roommate used as a side table. Setting down his carefully stacked snacks on the worn coffee table before their battered leather couch, Alfred proceeded to arrange the snacks in an array to his liking before glancing over to the sleeping form sprawled out on their couch.

Pale skin stood out from the black leather couch, almost radiating a light of its own. The man was laying halfway across the couch, one leg hanging over the edge and an arm thrown over his face to block out the glow from the movie start screen on their television. He was practically naked save for a pair of black jersey shorts which was no longer an unusual sight. Being roommates for the most part of three years had taken away the shock of seeing his roommate traipse around the house in nothing but his birthday suit whenever he damn well pleased. Hell, having company over would barely move him to put on clothes. Although, it wasn't like Alfred had never seen another naked man; high school was spent exploring his sexuality (especially since the locker rooms tended to involve vast numbers of naked sweaty men) and three years of college spent confirming his sexual identity. Alfred was most definitely attracted to his own gender, but strangely enough, despite the attractiveness of his roommate there was no attraction there for Alfred. It helped that his roommate was straight with an active girlfriend too.

A small smile curled into Alfred's lips as he looked over the sleeping form before it turned into a devious grin. Glancing at the clock above the television, he watched in anticipation as the minute hand crept closer to the twelve. He was almost shaking in excitement when the clock finally struck the time, signaling the start of movie night. Launching himself onto the other's sleeping form, Alfred landed on the other's thighs with his hands on the man's chest, holding him down due to multiple experiences of waking him up. The arm shot off his face and showed an expression of surprise mingled with murder, red eyes flashing dangerously as he realized he was being held down by a buffoon. Alfred leaned his face into the Albino's with a large grin plastered over his features before abruptly being smacked in the back of his head by the free hand.

"Get the FUCK off of me!" Gilbert growled out as he shoved his American roommate off and onto the floor, where he landed in a heap with a loud 'oof'. Sitting up, Gilbert swung both of his legs off of the couch and rested them on his roommate's head before he could sit up, folding an arm behind his head, he grabbed the nearby Xbox controller and turned it on to start the movie. Shoving Gilbert's feet from his body, Alfred clambered back onto the couch next to his friend and flashed him another shit-eating grin.

"Soooo, what are we watchin'?" He questioned, eyes glued to the screen as the German hit the play button (Gilbert would kill Alfred if he heard him call him a German as he proclaimed himself to be 'Prussian', but whatever! That wasn't even a country anymore!).

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre." Gilbert replied with a devilish smirk, glancing over at his American counterpart with amusement as a horrified look overtook his face. And it was true; there was nothing but pure horror apparent on Alfred's face at the mention of that movie. Where the hell did Gilbert even get this movie?!

"W-what?!"

"Ja, it looked good, so I borrowed it from Sadiq. Whatcha so nervous about?" Gilbert's grin widened to the point where he looked like a Cheshire cat.

"Dude. That's so not cool. I hate this movie."

"Why? Have you ever seen it?"

"No way, and 'cause it really happened! Like around where I'm from!"

"Really? That makes it even better, ja? It should totally be awesome then, and besides, didn't you live everywhere anyway?"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Kesesesese, Come on, the super awesome us can handle a little movie about a madman with a chainsaw."

Glancing over at the albino on the other side of the couch, Alfred realized that he really had no opinion in the matter as the movie was already beginning into the open credits. "Fine..." he mumbled, turning his eyes to the screen. After all, he was the hero! And this guy was locked up and no one did things like that anymore or at least that he was aware of. The hero could handle this movie!

However, fifteen minutes into the movie when the girl pulled a gun out from between her legs and shot her brains out, both boys jumped and proceeded to clutch whatever was nearby in an iron-clad death grip. Alfred's hand shakily shoveled popcorn into his mouth and Gilbert's eyes were wide with a potato chip halfway to his mouth. Nervous laughter escaped the two students, but they continued on watching for the sake of not looking like a pussy in front of the other. But an additional fifteen minutes into the movie when Leatherface hacked up his first victim in a bloody show of gore and violence, a scream ripped its way through Alfred's throat to match the dying woman on screen. Moments later another person was murdered and Gilbert's scream joined Alfred's when the large American literally jumped onto him, latching on with his death grip and continuing to scream. It was then that the door to their apartment (which they had apparently forgotten to lock) swung open and nearly off of its hinges to reveal a figure standing in the doorway. The men's screams intensified at the sight of the figure as it stomped its way towards them, sending the American and 'Prussian' leaping over the couch; Gilbert running towards the kitchen to fetch a knife and Alfred trying to jump out of their apartment window.

A light flicked on suddenly in the living room to reveal a very pissed off Italian looking at the two grown men like he wanted to murder them and a confused Spaniard with a finger hovering over the light switch by the door. Gilbert stood poised with the knife in the air as he looked upon the Italian; Alfred huddled near the window holding a floor lamp with a terrified expression.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Lovino screamed at them, grabbing Gilbert's wrist and yanking the knife out of his hand before brandishing it at the Prussian. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO SCREAMING LIKE YOU'RE DYING?!'

"We were like totally watching a movie dude!" Alfred exclaimed, still refusing to lower in the lamp in case it was really Leatherface hiding in the Italian's skin.

"AND SCREAMING LIKE FUCKING GIRLS WHO ARE HAVING THEIR HEADS CHOPPED OFF?!"

"Lovi, calm down.."

"I WILL NOT FUCKING CALM DOWN! I SHOULD BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF THE BOTH OF YOU!"

"Dude! We totally thought you were going to murder us!"

"I JUST MIGHT IF YOU DON'T QUIT SCREAMING LIKE A BUNCH OF DYING ANIMALS!"

"Kesesese, what did we interrupt to make you so mad Lovino?" At this, eyes fell to the half-dressed Spaniard who was moving to draw the angry Italian out of the room.

"Nothing!"

"Oh it was not nothing, Lovi! We were about to make sweet love, bu-"

"Shut it Tomato Bastard!" Lovino cut his boyfriend off by pointing the knife at him before glaring back at the two before him, "Start screaming again and you'll wish that you were fucking dead!" And with that the door of the apartment slammed shut, causing a vase on the steamer trunk to wobble slightly.

Slowly, Alfred set his lamp down in its place on the floor, turning an excited grin to his albino friend. "Wanna finish the movie?"

"Hell yeah!"

Once the movie was over and Gilbert had to forcefully pry his roommate from his body, the apartment was inspected a minimum of three times to make sure that all windows and doors were locked and their safety was insured while they slept, the two men had retreated to their respective bedrooms. Alfred crept cautiously into his own room, making sure to check his window, yet again, as well as his closet and under his bed. Once he was entirely positive that his room was secure, he picked up his Mac from his nightstand and seated himself on his bed. Once the laptop had booted, he logged onto his screen and pulled up his thesis. He hadn't gotten very far into it, but then the spring semester had truly just started. But Alfred was to graduate at the end of the semester with his Juris Doctor and then he was to enter the Criminal Justice program. Gilbert had graduated last year and was already into the full swing of his C.J. program and had the kindness to forewarn Alfred to get a head start on his final thesis. A creaking noise sounded outside of his door, causing Alfred to nearly jump off of his bed. The noise continued and after calming himself the noise ceased to sound like a murderer and instead sounded like Gilbert walking down the hallway. A heavy sigh escaped the American's lips as he glanced back at his screen, eyes skimming over the barely begun document.

He couldn't focus. Not with that movie still on his mind. Clicking out of the document, Alfred somehow found himself on Facebook. How? He had no idea. It was like something within him automatically goes, 'oh! Let's go peer into people's lives via social media!'. Alfred scrolled through the statuses, chuckling softly at the repetitive drama of people's daily lives. It was the same shit day after day. Someone was posting all of their scores from FarmVille or the like, someone was posting pictures of their kids, someone else was ranting about their previous or current relationships. Why he found himself on here, he had no idea. With another sigh, he clicked out of the site and shut his laptop, setting it on the nightstand once again. Rising from the bed, the American stumbled to the joint bathroom between rooms. The light was out, so Gilbert wasn't inside at the moment. Opening his door to the bathroom, he stepped in and flicked on the light, momentarily blinding by the sudden surge of bright fluorescent. Grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste, he proceeded to go through his nightly duty of washing his face and brushing his teeth. Stealing a glance at himself in the mirror, Alfred saw the soft honey colored hair falling about his face, the one piece that always stood up and proud (no matter how much he tried to tame it – he learned long ago that cutting it made it worse), bright blue eyes staring back at him from behind wire-framed glasses. Alfred was tan, extremely so, and how he managed to keep the Texas tan in the middle of winter in Massachusetts astounded him. But his mother was naturally tan, being a good third Cherokee, and he got her coloring fortunately. To be entirely honest, Alfred was handsome and some might even say beautiful with his toned body and Southern boy looks, but Alfred would generally disagree. It earned him a lot of advances and lovers, but it never earned him the relationship he wanted. A frown slipped onto his face as he stared back at the man in the mirror. Finishing up his nightly duties he hurriedly turned off the bathroom light and returned to his own room. Sleepiness overtook him in a sudden fit as the week's events finally caught up with him. Tumbling into his bed, Alfred struggled with his clothes until he was entirely free and curled up under his thick duvet in just his boxers. He couldn't evade sleep any longer, and maybe this time, he would have a pleasant dream instead of the faces of the people in his study cases.

_England was always rainy. Not an aspect that a particular young American boy enjoyed, but he made do. After a scolding from his mother to at least put on some galoshes and a raincoat, Alfred managed to dash outside, boisterous laughter echoing from his throat as he dashed down their walkway and into the street. He trotted along the sidewalk as cars crawled by, an occasional wave to a car he recognized or to a random officer. Growing up as a military brat had some privileges, including traveling around the world. At the tender age of seven, Alfred had already been to three countries. Born in the booming city of Dallas, Texas, his family was quickly moved to Germany during the Gulf War and then after four years they had been relocated to Mildenhall in Suffolk, England. Alfred's father was a captain in the United States Air Force and was currently helping to train recruited pilots for the Royal Air Force. As to where a seven year old boy was running to in the middle of a storm, well that one was easy. Skidding around a corner, Alfred's target came into sight. The entrance gate terminal where a bus was currently parked and unloading. It was early July and Alfred's birthday was in two days, so his best friend had come all the way from London to come spend it with him! After making it inside, Alfred stood breathing hard under the awning as he awaited his friend._

_After waiting for nearly half an hour, Alfred was beginning to get hungry. But a sudden flash of a familiar head of blonde hair completely shook the thought from him. A boy about nine years old was being escorted by an officer to the waiting area for a ride, but was nearly tackled by the force of a charging American._

"_ARTIE!" Alfred cried as he nearly drove the other boy into the ground, earning a surprised expression from both the officer and the child._

"_Get off me ya git!" The other boy laughed as he playfully shoved the bumbling American away, bending over to grab the bag that had flown from his hand at the tackle._

"_Awwww come on Artie! It's my birthday!"_

"_Not yet it's not, you still have two more days. Patience, Alfred." Alfred grumbled softly to himself before acknowledging the officer standing by his friend awkwardly. "It's okay sir, this is who I'm going with."_

"_That's me! The heroic birthday boy Alfred __**F.**__ Jones!" Alfred cried, sticking his thumb into his chest before wrapping an arm around his best friend's shoulders. The officer looked vaguely amused as he looked between the two boys. A small and very aggravated British boy no bigger than a stick and a loud boasting American boy – best friends indeed. But he knew who Alfred was, actually, he knew who his father was and that was enough for the officer._

"_Would you like me to take you boys home?"_

"_Naw, we'll walk! Thanks though!"_

"_Alfred! It's raining! We would like a ride, please…"_

"_Aaw come on Artie! Think of it as an adventure!" And before the Brit had a chance to reply, he was whisked out of the terminal by his young friend, shouting at him as the American dashed down the street. _

**A/N: Did I confuse you for a moment? I hope I did! Bahaha. Don't worry, I'll introduce more of Arthur as well as other characters in the next chapter. This is just a bit of a teaser. Hope you caught some of those references. :D**

**Also, excuse me if I made some mistakes, I'm trying my best with some limited research.**

**I cannot get through the first thirty minutes of T.C.M., I get grossed out and freaked out. I know Alfred shares my sentiments.**

**J.D. Juris Doctor – it's a three year program for law school which then allows students to graduate with a JD and then go into a more detailed program of their choice.**

**Mildenhall is an USAF and RAF base in Mildenhall, Suffolk, England.**

**And I'm actually from Texas, so hah.**

**Review please! Let me know any errors, what you liked, what you didn't like, ect. Also, the reason as to why Alfred is back in America will become clear in the next chapter.**


	2. Drunken Fun

**Introduction of other characters! Woo! Thanks so much for the follows and reviews and favorites! This chapter was fun to write. I always have a hard time starting out, but the bar scene is one of my favorites. Don't worry! Your favorite Brit will be making an appearance soon! Some more OCs to make it interesting.**

**Warnings: Drinking, cursing, suggestive dialogue, a hint of past FrUS (*le gasp!*), and more reminiscing. Plus a bonus character! (And I'm using a fem!Feliciano because not everyone is gay in real life and I have a plan for that – historical point somewhat)**

**I do not own anything except for maybe the OC's and even then, I probably don't own them either.**

Warm light filtered in through the bedroom window, washing everything in the room in a rose colored hue. A voice rang through the stillness of the room, cast in a faux-British accent as Merv Griffin sang, "_I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! There they are standing in a row!_" with the big bang blaring in the background. A hand shot out from the jumble of sheets and fumbled with the phone on the nightstand that was still attached to its charger. "_Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head! Give them a twist, a flick of the wrist, that's what the showman said! I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts! Every ball you throw will make me rich! There stands me wife! The idol of me-"_ the noise finally ceased as Alfred ripped the phone from its cord and managed to silence it, eyes staring at the blurred screen.

Dropping the phone into his lap, he lazily groped for his glasses and only succeeded in knocking them to the floor. With a mumbled curse, he managed to lean from the bed and snatch the glasses from the floor without becoming uncovered by the thick warm duvet. Sliding the spectacles onto his nose he pressed his phone button once more and looked at the time.

_9:00am._

He was insane. Why the hell did he set an alarm for nine a.m. on a Saturday?! Stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, Alfred scowled at his phone and glanced around the room. Clothes strewn everywhere, backpack hanging on the closet door, running shoes by the door…Oh yeah, he wanted to go for a jog this morning. With a swift pull, Alfred released himself from the warm duvet, a twinge of regret hitting him the moment the cold air of the room touched his bare legs. He groaned with effort as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and planted his feet firmly on the carpeted floor, wriggling his toes into the soft fibers before standing to his feet.

Needless to say, Alfred was not a morning person. More like a morning zombie. He groaned, he moaned and shuffled, blank eyes staring out before him until he began to wake up and then the youthful vigor and exuberance that he was known for kicked in. Shuffling towards a pile of clothes that had been tipped out of a laundry basket, Alfred crouched down to rifle through him all the while mumbling to himself incoherently. After tossing a few t-shirts and socks to the side, he finally found the beloved item that he had been searching for. Tight, black spandex slipped through his fingers and caught in his palm as Alfred stood with a smile, gazing upon his beloved and very-manly runner's tights.

It was a bit of trouble to get the tights over his legs and boxers, but once he had them on he felt warm even though he looked a bit like Peter Pan. His attention turned towards the messy dresser as he forced his feet to it and pulled out the second drawer and retrieved a pair of black socks before closing the drawer and moving on to the bottom. This time he pulled out a pair of dark grey sweatpants that were hiding behind a pair of shorts. _Why do I have to keep all of my clothes in different places? Just to make it hell on myself in the mornings, I suppose._ All of the moving had finally brought his legs from their zombie state and his feet actually began to pick up as he crossed his room towards the closet, making his trek slightly faster than his zombie-induced walk. Opening the door with as much flourish as he could muster so early in the morning, Alfred reached in and yanked a matching dark grey "Harvard Law" hoodie from a hanger, nearly causing the hanger to break in the process.

Marching back towards the bed, Alfred began the daily struggle of getting himself dressed. _Oh to be a kid again and have Mom dress me…_ _Socks, already have my tights, pants, already have a shirt, hoodie… good to go!_ Hopping from the bed with some enthusiasm, Alfred grabbed his shoes as he headed out his bedroom door and made his way into the apartment's small kitchen. As he reached the refrigerator to fetch himself a water, a bright yellow sticky note caught his eye. Written on it was a scrawling handwriting, hard to decipher unless you squinted and turned your head slightly to the right.

_**Liz got some big part in a musical.  
Celebratory drinks. Usual place and time.  
DD?**_

Alfred chuckled lightly to himself as he read over the note a second time. Elizabeta, Gilbert's knockout of a girlfriend (who if Alfred wasn't totally and completely gay would be all over that), had told him last month about auditioning for the role of Christine in her school's production of Phantom of the Opera. And apparently, she got the role which meant a night of drunken friends at a bar downtown. Smiling to himself, Alfred opened the fridge and retrieved his water, glancing back at the note as he shut the door and slid his shoes on.

The run was uneventful except for the snow that covered the ground and began to fall again as Alfred finished up his mile, forcing him to return to the warm apartment instead of trekking on. Running kept him warm, but otherwise Alfred hated the cold. He was from the warmest state of all where winter never existed and had been conditioned to love the sight of snow, but only from looking out of a window from his warm house. And just like his run, the rest of the day was uneventful as well. Lounging about the apartment and working on his homework and thesis in turns, researching various cases and studying his laws in an attempt to commit them to memory.

Generally, Alfred had an attention span of a toddler unless it came to something that he was passionate about. Growling aloud in frustration as he reread the same law for the fifth time before setting his laptop aside to rub his temples; a glance to his phone showed him that it was later than he had hoped and alerted him that he needed to start getting ready for the night. He had already showered after his run, so all that remained was to change from sweats to normal clothes and eat something. But eating came first as it always does.

Making sure to save any work that he had done and bookmark the page he was on, Alfred made sure to shut down his computer and dropped it back in his room. He had learned long ago to not leave his laptop in the living room because to Gilbert, this meant fair game. The albino considered anything that was left in the main living areas to be joint property and the one time Alfred had left his laptop on the couch, he had come back to find it overloaded with porn and minesweeper scores. Gilbert could really be a bastard when he wanted to be.

Trudging back to the kitchen, the blonde searched through their small pantry and the few cabinets that housed food of some form before checking the fridge. Just as he suspected, there was really nothing save for alcohol, chips, peanut butter, mac and cheese and ramen. Grabbing a sharpie from the counter, he added a few notes onto Gilbert's, complete with a smiley face.

_**Liz got some big part in a musical**_**. HOORAY!  
**_**Celebratory drinks. Usual place and time.**_**  
**_**DD?**_** AREN'T I ALWAYS? :P  
FOOD STUFF! **

A grin worked its way into Alfred's face as he stood back and surveyed his work. Proud of his comments, he proceeded to prepare some of the chicken flavored ramen that he found in the pantry. Google research had thought him that there was a variety of things that he could make from ramen and he was in the mood for Pad Thai, so Asian it was!

As he sat down on the couch with his bowl, flipping through channels to find something worthwhile to watch, the front door of the apartment swung open to reveal an extremely cheerful 'Prussian'.

"It's the awesome me!" He announced as he staggered into the apartment with complete disregard for shutting the door. "I'm home! And ready to paaaarrrrtaaaay!" He sung, bouncing in his spot to some inaudible music before slinking his way to the kitchen. A clinking of glass and a pop announced that he had found more beer.

"'Ow much 'ave you 'ready 'ad to drink?" Alfred asked, mouth full of noodles as he watched his roommate saunter back into the living room with one of his German beers in hand. Taking a swig, he flashed another grin at Alfred before staring up at the ceiling in concentration.

"Four beers?" A chuckle escaped the American as he managed to swallow his mouthful of noodles, swirling his fork in another pile and bringing it up to his mouth. This would be a fun night.

By the time 8:00 had arrived, Gilbert was pretty much drunk. He had paused on his drinking for a while to eat something at Alfred's insistence. Once they had reached the bar, they found the rest of their group already drinking to their heart's content. Gilbert had insisted on paying for everyone's first drink of the night for the special occasion and that in itself was no small feat. Gilbert had made sure to invite their neighbors Antonio and Lovino (Gilbert was best friends with Antonio), Francis, Elizabeta, a few of Liz's friends, Alfred (of course) and Gilbert's brother Ludwig and his girlfriend, Felicia. Needless to say, after about an hour everyone (but Alfred and Ludwig) was drunk – especially Gilbert.

Alfred was dressed simply in a pair of jeans, sneakers, a plain white t-shirt and his great-grandfather's brown leather bomber jacket from World War II. He sat idly at the bar, sipping a draft and watching his friends dance and interact with each other and the poor people who found themselves in the bar tonight. Francis was currently groping one of Elizabeta's friends in the corner; Gilbert was singing drunken karaoke to Journey's "Anyway You Want It" with Liz, and honestly they were pretty good despite being one drink from being shitfaced - Gilbert was managing to even hit the high notes. Antonio and Lovino had disappeared a while back and Ludwig was sitting stoically by Felicia who was happily chirping about art and pasta to random people. He couldn't help but laugh at Ludwig's pained expression as his eyes searched the bar in hopes that this would be ending soon. Blue eyes met from across the bar and Alfred flashed him his hero's smile as well as a pair of thumbs up, causing Ludwig to look away quickly and focus back on Felicia's conversation with a new person. Alfred wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it seemed that no matter how much Alfred _and_ Gilbert assured Ludwig that not all gays were out to convert him to homosexuality, the poor man never seemed convinced. Alfred even joked that Gilbert was more of his type than Ludwig, but that had only earned him a horrified expression. _Oh well, there was one in every group right?_

Bringing his attention back to the karaoke stage, Alfred watched with pure amusement as Gilbert began to mime an air guitar while jamming out to a Journey solo. But a scoff brought his attention to a man sitting next to him at the bar who was watching the scene with amusement as well, nursing an amber colored drink in his hand. A thick accent was what made Alfred look upon the man beside him, a smile curved into his features. "Feckin' Americans. Can't hold their feckin' liquor." He mused as he took another drink from his glass, eyes watching Gilbert made a fool of himself with glee.

The man was gorgeous. _Seriously? What is it with European men and being fucking beautiful?!_ Pale skin and strong features contrasted with fiery red hair that was just a shade lighter than crimson. He looked to be as tall as Alfred, dressed in a pair of black slacks with a white button down shirt that was partially covered by a royal blue vest that was left unbuttoned. But the thing that caused Alfred to stare was his thick eyebrows and brilliantly green eyes. _He just looks so…familiar._ In his other hand, he held a cigarette and alternately puffed on it between taking sips of his alcohol. But, the man must've felt Alfred's gaze boring a hole into his head for his smile turned into a smirk before he turned his head and looked right at the American, an almost predatory look in his eyes.

"What's the matter, boy? See somethin' ya like?"

"Uh-I, no." Alfred stammered, taken aback by the sudden brashness of the other man. _Damn, he really did look familiar._

"Oh? Well then, why are ye starin'?"

"No, no.. it's not that it's- it's just that you look really familiar."

"Oh?" He hummed, taking another drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke up into the air before glancing back to the blonde sitting at his side, "ya ever been to Scotland?"

"Nooo… but I used to live in England?"

"Aye?"

"Yeah, it's just. Your eyes… and no offense, but those of yours eyebrows are huge."

"Don't ya be insultin' the Kirklan' eyebrows! I ought to have yer feckin' head 'or tha'!" The man growled, hand gripping onto his glass as he rose from his seat only to tower over Alfred. _Yep, he was definitely taller than- wait! Kirkland?!_

"Hold on! Kirkland?!" Alfred squeaked, blue eyes widening in an expression of joyous recognition. The man's face shifted from anger to confusion as he took a slight step back, turning his head to eye Alfred carefully.

"Yea, what 'bout it?"

"A-as in Alistair Kirkland?!" Alfred exclaimed, practically leaping from his chair and causing the fiery redhead to take a full step back in surprise.

"Tha' feck?! How the 'ell do you know my fecking name?" He exclaimed as he looked upon the strange American before him. Something about the boy seemed familiar in the way his blue eyes shined with childish innocence. A cry of surprise from nearby snapped both of the men's head towards the source to only see Francis smiling sheepily, holding his cheek as a woman stomped off, her cheeks burning scarlett.

"OHMYGODALLISTORICAN'TBELIEVEIT'SYOUWHATAREYOUDOINGHERE?!" Alfred practically yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a small child as he brought his attention back to the bewildered Scot before him.

"Tha hell?"

"It's me! Alfred F. Jones! Alfie!" He cried as he flung himself forward to latch onto the older man's waist, nearly knocking the wind out of the thin man with the sheer force of the hug.

"Tha' feck?!" Alistair cried as he looked down at the excited American, arms held up in defense before the realization dawned on him. "Wait. Me babby brother's Alfie? From Mildenhall?"

"YESYESYESYES!"

Pushing the excited boy off of his body, the Scot held Alfred by his shoulders and gave him a once over, confusion still apparent on his face except for a smile that was slowly ebbing its way onto his face.

"Alfred. The kid who's da' died in the training flight?" A shadow flicked over Alfred's face at the mention of that particular piece of history, his smile fading slightly into a sadder version. "Yes," he practically whispered as cerulean eyes took in every detail of the pale face before him. _God, Alistair really hasn't changed. Except for the fact that he's somehow more handsome than before… but if he's here, then maybe.._

"Is Arthur here?" He asked, the exuberant smile returning to his face as he excitedly began to look around the bar. _What if Arthur turned out handsome like Alistair? Holy fuck that would be amazing! God, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself?! But wait! He would probably be straight. Fuuuuuuck._

"Nah, I jus' got into town and I figured tha' I needed a drink 'fore I had to deal with the bastard."

"So Arthur is here!?"

"I jus' told ya-"

"I mean he's here in Cambridge?!"

"Yea, he's in some Master's program tho'. Surprised ya 'aven't seen 'im."

"HOLY SHIT!" Alfred squealed, his voice rising in pitch to rival that of any girl's which earned him a few looks from the people around them. Alistair stood helpless before him, shock still showing on his face as Alfred did a small dance on the spot out of the sheer happiness he felt in the situation. As Alfred opened his mouth to ask another question, an arm slipped around his shoulder and drunken laughter echoed loudly in his ear. "Kesesese, did you find yourself a toy Alfie?" Gilbert asked with a wink in Alistair's direction meanwhile taking a swig of a beer in his other hand. But Alistair didn't even miss a beat as he lit up a new cigarette and let it dangle between his lips, throwing a coy smile at the drunken albino.

"Only if ya join." His predatory smile returned with full force, all the while casting a wink at Alfred whose face was beginning to take on a shade of pink.

"G-Gil. This is Alistair." He managed, raising his eyebrows at the drunken 'Prussian' in an attempt to convey a message.

"Kesesesese. Al, I don't care what his name is – as long as you're not too loud." And with an inebriated flourish, Gilbert was off to find Elizabeta. All this sex talk had made him want to bury his face in his girlfriend's well-endowed chest and he was determined to do just that. Alfred was left standing there, his face a now full shade of red that reached all the way to the tips of his ears as he looked at the amused Scot standing before him.

"I'm jus' feckin' with ya. I don' swing tha' way," and the man laughed. He laughed. All the hell that he just put Alfred through and he laughed. God-damn-it all if Alfred thought he even had a chance with a Kirkland. Damn them all. "'Sides," the older man grinned, taking another puff of his cigarette. "'M married. Wouldn't be right to tha' wife." _Fuck. _Exhaling the smoke, Alistair downed the last of his drink before setting the glass on the bar and pulling a twenty from his pocket to set down along with it.

"It's been fun, but I 'ave a conference in the morn'. See ya around Alfie." A crooked smile was shot Alfred's way before he sidestepped him and made his way across the thinning room. Even his walk was filled with pride and confidence, people easily parting for him.

"Well, shit." Alfred mumbled to himself as he looked at his own drink that sat idly on the bar. With a swift motion he finished off his drink, eyes scanning the bar. Francis was looking decent tonight and that damn Alistair had gotten Alfred worked up. The said Frenchman was currently conversing with another small girl, this one looking barely older than sixteen. If Alfred approached him, Francis would easily divert all his attention to the American. After all, they had a simple relationship – they didn't like each other all that much, but they had shared a few drunken nights in the past. However, the American's mind was preoccupied with a pair of intense green eyes from long ago. If Arthur was in Cambridge, then what was the hero to do other than to find him?

The night wore on and eventually, Alfred had to drag his roommate back to their apartment. Gilbert was intoxicated to the point that he was beginning to ramble nonsense. Not that he didn't do that when he was sober, but Gilbert's drunken ramblings were on a whole new scale. Half of the conversation was mumbled and Alfred would just nod along as he dragged the shitfaced albino back into their apartment, the only real word he was able to decipher was "awesome" and of course, Gilbert's obnoxious laugh.

After depositing his roommate in his own room, Alfred stumbled into his own and immediately shed his clothes down to his boxers before clambering into his bed and falling into a troubled sleep, induced from the night's conversations.

_It was a beautiful day. Quite possibly one of the most beautiful days that_ _Alfred had seen since being in London. Mrs. Kirkland had even laughed, joking that Alfred had brought the sunshine with him. Alfred flashed his big hero's grin at the woman, remarking that 'the day was almost as pretty as her' before scampering off to find Arthur. Elizabeth Kirkland was a lovely woman. The epitome of a well-bred British lady with her fine manners and beauty, traits which her younger son took after. Arthur was practically the spitting image of her with the same flawless porcelain skin, soft messy blonde hair and wide emerald green eyes. Alfred's mother had joked that Arthur was the prettiest boy she had ever seen. Elizabeth Kirkland was petite and graceful; an envy among women. Even at the tender age of twelve, Alfred could easily see why Mr. Kirkland had fallen in love with her. But on top of it all, she was kind – a doting mother to her four children, with the fifth on the way._

_Mr. Kirkland on the other hand was a handsome man, but strict and rigorous with his children. Strong features - such as the infamous Kirkland eyebrows, and tall, his eldest son, Alistair resembled him the most with their fiery red hair and strong jaws. The twins, Erin and Dylan were a combination between the two parents in looks but their rebellious spirits were all their own. _

_Alfred had found Arthur up in his bedroom, dressed in a floor length scarlet coat and a hat on top of his head with a monstrous feather sticking out, holding a stick to Alfred's chest the moment he entered the room, a devious smirk on his face. "Pick yer weapon," he growled before nodding his head towards his bed where another stick lay as well as a fake plastic sword. A loud laugh bubbled up from the American's chest as he dove onto the bed and snatched the stick, pointing it towards his friend as a grin broke onto his face._

_Arthur's trademark eyebrows furrowed and he let loose a deep laugh before lunging at Alfred on the bed, shouting "Avast!" as the weapon's clashed. They fought with the fake sticks, Arthur succeeding in whacking Alfred across the head a few times before Alfred finally tackled him onto the floor and weapons were dropped as the two boys wrestled, their laughs echoing across the room._

_Alfred had finally managed to pin the Brit beneath him laughing hysterically, "Give up?"_

"_Never!" Arthur shouted as he tried to wriggle free from the younger boy's grip. He had almost flipped Alfred off, but froze when the bedroom door opened to reveal his mother standing in the doorway. It wasn't the presence of his mother that stopped the wrestling match, but the sight of her that froze both of the boys. Her face was flushed and pale, the green eyes swollen and puffy. Her hand that was still on the doorknob shook as Arthur called to her, "Mum? What's wrong?" _

_The older boy had managed to flip the stunned American off of him, scrambling to his mother who just continued to stare at the other blonde who sat on the floor with a look of confusion._

"_Oh Alfred," she mumbled, glancing to her own son and then back to the other. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and yet, she seemed frozen in her place. The preteen slowly stood up from the floor, looking between his friend and his mother with concern._

"_M-Mrs Kirkland?" He asked, willing his body to step towards the woman as her façade crumbled, tears leaking down her cheeks. She folded her hands in front of her as the younger boy came closer before pulling him into her bosom, softly whispering._

"_Oh Alfred… I'm so sorry, love."_

_The tan body stiffened in her arms before pulling away enough to look at her, fear beginning to show in his eyes as his friend looked on helplessly. "W-what?" He asked, blue eyes searching her pale and tear-streaked face for answers. A sniffle escaped the Kirkland matron as her slim hands slowly released the boy to look upon him. Arthur could see his eldest brother standing a little ways outside of the door, his body tense and a pained look in his dark eyes._

"_Alfred…your father.." Was all the poor woman could stammer before the tears leaked again. But it was all the boy needed to hear as he ripped himself from her hold, blood draining from his face as his eyes widened in fear. His voice barely a whisper, "What about my daddy?"_

"_Alfred.. I'm so sorry.. B-but, your father… He..He's been in an accident. A-and I'm afraid… I'm afraid he didn't make it, love."_

_A dull hum filled Alfred's ears. The room seemed too small. Too quiet. His breathing hitched as the news sunk into his brain, a strange sensation tingling in his arms and slowly spreading throughout his body. He was suddenly aware of every inch of darkness in the room and it he felt the darkness slowly creeping towards him. The room was spinning as a rush of emotions flooded him. Memories flashed before his eyes of his father smiling and laughing. Scenes of his father playing with him and kissing his mother; then they were gone - shattered into nothing. _

_He could hear screaming, like an animal dying, then time spun and he found himself staring at a black casket in the rain, an American flag draped over the lid. A gun was fired and Alfred found himself on a plane, staring at the seat before him. He wasn't here. This wasn't happening. Where was he?_

_Blackness swirled around the edges of his vision and he could hear voices talking but he couldn't understand what they were saying. His vision was tunneling and the darkness was approaching. He was standing in a hay field with nothing but amber waves of grain swallowing him, a cloudless blue sky above. It was warm, but he was cold. He saw his father's smiling face and then it was gone and he was staring at a lifeless corpse - a shell of his father._

_Just a memory. _

**Sad chapter is sad. Ah, that dream sequence kills me. *slapped***

**Hope you liked it all. Next chapter will be much happier. I promise. I just had to give a hint of detail.**

**By the way, listen to "Anyway You Want It" by Journey and please tell me you can imagine Gilbert singing it. And I love flirty Scotland. He's hilarious. You'll see more of him (maybe).**

**And sorry about accents and whatnot. I tried. Hope this wasn't too depressing.**

**Reviews are awesome!**


	3. Books and Groceries

A sharp inhale of air broke through the stillness of the bedroom. Blackness had edged from the corners of his mind and filled the room, suffocating him in a mix of cold air and warm bodies. An arm that was draped over Alfred's bare waist kept him from bolting upwards, a thin sheen of sweat beading on his forehead and torso. Glasses or not, the room was black with night and still except for the light snoring coming from beside him.

Blue irises were almost engulfed by the black pupils as his body shook slightly as it awakened from the reoccurring nightmare. He hadn't been haunted by that dream in such a long time, but the night's conversation with Alistair had brought it back from the recessed corners of his memory.

The warm body beside him stirred in their sleep, a slight catch in the snoring before the arm withdrew itself and the body turned away, pulling the sheets halfway off of the American's body as it went. A murmur escaped the person next to him; something in German or whatever.

The fact that Gilbert was sleeping next to Alfred at whatever God-forsaken hour it was came as no surprise to him. Whenever the self-proclaimed 'Prussian' drank too much, Alfred would tend to wake up and find his roommate in his bed, cuddled against him and mumbling about wurst or him being awesome. Alfred had even tried locking his bedroom door to prevent this from happening, but he was convinced that Gilbert was either a magician or had a spare key. But nonetheless, it was nice to have someone next to him if he awoke from a nightmare.

The surprising thing though, was that Gilbert actually had on pants this time. The last time Alfred had woken up to the albino in his bed, he was dressed in his normal sleepwear, which was absolutely nothing. That had been a fun morning.

As his body began to relax and his breathing began to return to normal, Alfred's hazy gaze shifted to where his nightstand should be. Reaching out a hand, he blindly fumbled until his fingers brushed against the cold plastic of his phone's case. Pressing the button, the room was lit with a bright light and temporarily blinded the blonde. Sitting up slightly, Alfred leaned over and blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted to the light and his mind caught up to register the time.

_4:01._

Plopping back onto the bed, Alfred tried to stretch his body without disturbing his bedmate before bringing down his hands to clutch at the sheets. With a swift yank, he pulled them back over himself, pulling Gilbert with it as well. Turning onto his side, Alfred curled his arm underneath his pillow and stared at the light emitted from his phone until it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. His mind had thoughts of its own tonight as his eyes slipped closed and his face relaxing back into sleep, images of deep green eyes filling his dreams before they faded into blackness and left him at last in a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Since that Saturday night where Alfred had ran into Alistair at the bar, Alfred's week had been uneventful. Snow continued to fall, but that never seemed to deter his teachers from class or assignments. _Damn teachers,_ Alfred thought as he trudged through the three inch thick snow towards the library, _had this been Texas they would've cancelled school at the first snowflake!_ His mind fumed as his nose frozen in the chilly air; fingers shoved deep into the pockets of a thick woolen pea coat in a battle against the cold.

Gilbert worked for Germania Law Firm (ironic, no?) and was working on a criminal case where a girl was bullied and hung herself as a result of it, and as he was buried shoulder-deep in files, he had asked Alfred to go and see if he could find the court documents for a similar case that had happened a few years back in New York. Despite the feeling that Alfred was just a mule when the albino had him search for case files, it meant that the American could actually work on a case and generally, Mr. Germania brought him into the court room as an intern for all the hard work that he had been doing for them.

Few people were out in this awful weather, except for those scurrying to and from classes or those taking their smoke breaks while huddled outside of the various building doors. As he continued on his way, stepping carefully to follow the path already made by fellow students through the snow, Alfred's mind began to wander as it had done the entire week.

Of course Alfred had tried to keep in contact with Arthur when he moved back to the States, but with the constant moving on his part, it was practically impossible. And then when Alfred joined the football and baseball teams at his various schools, it made his free time virtually non-existent. He had tried finding his childhood friend on Facebook, but that was to no avail. Arthur avoided technology like the plague when they were children and there would be no reason that he would be on it now. Nonetheless, Alfred still searched for him every now and then.

There had been once or twice that he thought that he had actually found him on there, but it would always turn out to be someone else. But with Alistair's new information, a new hope had sprung up in the American's heart. But a problem still loomed over his head – would he even recognize Arthur? Alfred had certainly changed over the years from a scrawny kid to a well-built man and he even had glasses now! For all he knew, Arthur could be Nancy by now! The thought struck a chord with the blonde as he chuckled to himself, stepping through the automatic doors to the library.

But Alistair hadn't seemed to change much… but he was also about ten years older than Alfred and once you hit your twenties you tend to not change too much. He hadn't actively searched for Arthur over the years, so why start now? Alistair had even gone as far as confirming that Arthur was here for school and even if it was for the Master's program, Alfred at least had the rest of the semester.

Searching through the court records, Alfred was able to find the right case and about five others as well. Making a copy of each of the court records took longer than it should since the copier decided to jam on him halfway through. With the assistance of a blushing librarian's assistant, Alfred finally managed to make his copies and was quickly headed out the door before his phone began to ring violently in his pocket. Mumford and Sons harmonized beautifully as he fished the device from his pocket, throwing an apologetic smile to a scowling librarian as he answered the phone and quickly made his way out of the building.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sweetie!" The blonde made a mental groan as he heard the melodic voice chime through his earpiece. He should've looked at the caller id, but his frantic means to stop the ringing caused him to ignore it. It wasn't that Alfred wanted to avoid his mother - it was the complete opposite of that. He absolutely adored the woman. It was the fact that she called him every single day.

"Hey Mom!" Alfred grinned as he stepped through the snow, ducking his head under a low-hanging branch, laden down with snow.

"How's it going?"

"Good, good. Just got some court docs for Gilbert and now I'm going to grab some coffee and then head towards my next class."

"That sounds like fun…Is it snowing there?"

"Loads of fun, and yeah, it's been snowing off and on for a while."

"Aw, you should send me pictures! Have you gotten used to the snow yet? Any of your classes cancelled?"

"I will, and no and no. I think my teachers hate the snow as much as I do with how grumpy they all are in the winter, but I'll manage." Alfred flashed another grin, knowing his mother couldn't see but that she could probably feel his thousand-watt grin all the way in Virginia. He had made his way to the road by this time and was beginning to pick up his pace as he trod towards a small Starbucks located at the corner.

Their conversation continued in the same way as the American student entered the warm coffee shop and ordered his drink – a caramel macchiato that Francis had gotten him addicted to. His daily conversation with his mother finally ended on the same note that it always did, a promise to send pictures of the northern snow and a promise to come and visit over Spring Break.

A quick glance to his phone revealed that Alfred actually _didn't_ have time to get any coffee and left him to sprint to his next class, mentally promising himself to pick up some more coffee whenever they went to the grocery store that night. After all, they had held out for as long as possible to go to the store.

The rest of the day was just as much of a blur as the previous portion of the week and at last he was released from his classes. Gilbert had called at one point and asked Alfred to come pick him up from work and they would just get their groceries from there. Once picking up his roommate, the pair swung by Boston University-West to pick up Elizabeta from her practice and made their way towards the Marketplace.

Boston was truly a beautiful city, and only about ten minutes from Cambridge so it was the place the group tended to spend a lot of their time. In fact, a lot of students spent a good amount of their time in Boston if they weren't in their own little town.

Strolling down the aisles of the Marketplace, Liz pushed their cart that was slowly filling with items (a majority of it alcohol and junk food) with Alfred on one side and Gilbert on the other, each tossing in items as they saw fit all the while carrying on a conversation before Elizabeta's own thoughts drifted unguarded from her lips, "I think you two are secretly lovers…"

Shocked silence ensued before the albino began fuming, his voice reaching a rather un-awesome pitch.

"What the hell Liz?"

"I'm serious. You two argue like a married couple. And I know you cuddle, don't even try to deny it."

"So what if we do?! It's an awesome-fest!"

"It's okay Gil, I understand. If Alfred was straight, I'd leave you for him in a heartbeat."

"WHAT THE HELL?!" A deep laugh rumbled out of Alfred's chest at this, knocking his head back slightly before he bounced back into his original position, raising his hand to push his glasses back up into position before shooting his roommate a devilish grin, "Ah come on Gil. Just admit it, you love me."

"I DO NOT!"

"Aw Gil, I'm hurt." Alfred sighed, clutching at his chest with mock hurt on his face, mouth gaping slightly before he erupted into another laugh. "That's not what you said last night."

"I DID NOT SAY ANYTHING LAST NIGHT!"

"Oooh. Maybe I should install a camera in your apartment. Mmm, I can see it now." A far-off dreamy look clouded over the Hungarian woman's eyes as her cheeks turned blood red, her mouth forming into a predatory grin as she looked between the two suddenly silent men. "I know how good Gilbert is in bed… and I've heard Francis mention a few things, so I bet my imagination is pretty accurate, yeah?"

Both men managed to go entirely pale before red sprung up in their cheeks, eyes wide in horror at the thought of Liz mentally picturing them having sex. But not only was she imagining it, she was vocalizing it… in public.

"Mmm. I've seen Gil naked and Al, I've seen you in nothing but a towel so there's not much left to the imagination. Oh my.. I think I might need to call Kiku. But let's see… who would top?" She asked, pressing a pointer finger to her chin as she ceased walking and stared back at the two men who stood petrified in the aisle. Alfred genuinely had no problem with talking about sex with another man, but it was the fact that his roommate's _girlfriend_ was imagining them having sex and talking to them about it.

Suddenly, Elizabeta's face turned bright red and a small trickle of blood left from her nose as she completely rounded to face them, eyes widening in realization, "battle for dominance…oh yes." Gilbert's face contorted into disgust and Alfred's own flickered between horror and amusement. He couldn't decide which was worse – Liz's enjoyment of those thoughts and the fact that Kiku was in on it as well, or the pure, unadulterated horror on Gilbert's face. He finally decided on amusement. It wasn't that often that he got to see Gilbert so horrified and damn it, if it wasn't hilarious. Besides, he helped create this situation too.

"Oh no, I would top." Alfred purred as he brushed his hand up the albino's arm, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through the man as he bounded away with a ferocious amount of energy.

"Hey! Fuck you Al! I would top the hell out of you!" He cried, face contorting into a glare until Elizabeta giggled and began to walk away with their cart. The dawning realization crossed his pale face which triggered a smug smirk from Alfred before he sauntered off after the busty woman that had walked away with their groceries.

With their purchases finally made, the car ride back was filled with singing from Alfred and Elizabeta while Gilbert continued to fume in the passenger seat. Dropping her off at her apartment (and helping to carry in her portion of groceries), the two men returned to their own home. As they entered the door and began to set down the groceries, Gilbert dropped his last bag on the counter before turning on his heel and storming off to his bedroom, all the while mumbling loudly, "so un-awesome. I would totally top" before slamming his bedroom door.

Alfred couldn't fight the grin that appeared, threatening to crack his face in half as he put away the remainders of their groceries. He had made sure that they stopped by a McDonald's on the way home and grabbing the bag off of the counter he walked into their living room and plopped himself on the couch. Flipping on the Xbox, Alfred found his Netflix app and settled in to watch a marathon of the Avengers until dinnertime. Starting with his all-time favorite - Captain America.

**A/N: Ending was bad, but I had to end it. Sorry I lied. I was going to put Arthur in here, but I decided against it. Review and give me ideas on where they should meet! 'Cause once he enters, it's gonna goooooooo! Woo! You guys rock, like seriously. Thanks for all of your follows and the favorites, and especially the reviews! Reviewing helps me write faster!**

**I'm also writing three other fics at the moment, so forgive me. But whenever the inspiration hits, it hits and especially when you guys review!**

**Next chapter should be out soon (hopefully) and again, give me some ideas!**


	4. Car wrecks are the next best thing

**Big, big, BIG shoutout to SpyMiss. She's my sounding board and an all-around good person.**

When you have no time for anything, it seems like there is never enough time in the day. And then the days when you're completely bored out of your mind, it seems like you're stuck in an endless loop for all of eternity. Or at least that's how it was feeling for a certain American as he stared at his Mac's screen in frustration, blonde eyebrows furrowed with disdain as he stared at the familiar words before him, a few textbooks and unfiled papers rifled about him on his bed. The snow outside had continued to fall on and off as the weeks had passed, ensuring that Alfred was trapped in a snowy hell that he was forced to make his way through to get to classes on time.

By this point, the weeks had started to roll into mid-February and with the recent passing of another drunken Valentine's Day spent with none other than Francis or some other man from their favorite bar. Despite this, Alfred found himself at the breaking point of frustration – a month had passed and he had made no progress on this damn thesis paper. At the moment, all he had was a few vague paragraphs that he could tie into any topic of his choosing. But the matter was that no topic had truly caught his eye and therefore, he was stuck in no-man's land when it came to the damn document.

The hours had looped together as he sat in his room, slaving away over a thesis that wouldn't be due for at least three more months, only allowing himself to venture from his hobbit hole for food and restroom breaks. The monotony of working on the paper was broken up by working on various assignments and case facts for his classes or Gilbert, whichever would seem more interesting at the moment. And speaking of Gilbert, he had called at lunch to ask if Alfred could pick up Liz from her play practice…

Glancing over at the clock on his computer screen, the American jumped at the time, nearly knocking himself as well as all of his books off of the bed in the process. Time had really flown by him today as it was approaching 4:50 and Gilbert had oh-so-kindly reminded him that the Hungarian music major got out of practice at five. "Damnit," Alfred cursed under his breath as he hastily shut down his laptop and threw it onto the bed amid the books as he scampered towards his closet. After rifling through his clothing for a moment, he shed his sweatpants and worn Captain America t-shirt in favor of a pair of jeans, a plain dark blue long-sleeved shirt and his great-grandfather's bomber jacket as well as a pair of black gloves because damn it was cold outside! Dashing from his room, he stumbled around their various objects of furniture before reaching their apartment door. Grabbing a black and red checkered scarf, which was probably Gilbert's, and his keys, Alfred managed to lock their door before running down the hallway – shouting some nonsense at Lovino and Antonio's door as he ran by and out into the cold.

And _fuck_ it was cold. It's almost five o'clock in the evening – it shouldn't be this cold, right? Hurtling over the low parking wall, his fingers slipped over his keys in his pocket in an effort to mash the auto start button on the key. Alfred didn't come from a lot of money – even though he had a heft inheritance awaiting him one of these days, but his mother made sure to get him a nice car especially since he was living somewhere were six inches of snow was a normal thing. That, and Alfred didn't usually think ahead and just went with his spontaneous impulses which in the past had left him freezing his ass off in a cold car that finally got warm when he reached his destination.

He finally managed to hit the button and the Camry roared to life in the parking lot when Alfred was only ten yards away, a considerably short distance for the former football player. American football that is. He would've gladly played soccer (something Arthur had gotten him into when he lived in England), but down in small-town-South, it really wasn't that common unless you lived in a larger city. After trying the car handle and finding it locked, Alfred cursed violently under his breath as he mashed the poor unlock button multiple times out of sheer spite before yanking on the handle and throwing himself into the car's seat. Cranking the heat as high as it would go, the blonde-haired male took a moment to shudder and wriggle around in his seat before the warming air started to thaw his face. Finally satisfied with the returning feeling in his hands, he pulled the shifter back into drive and with a quick look around, sped off in the direction of BU-W.

When Alfred finally pulled up to the campus, it was ten minutes after five. Whoops. And there to prove this was an angry-looking Hungarian woman who was currently stomping towards the car. A slouchy, bohemian-style hat was pulled onto her head with thick brown curls cascading down and past her shoulders. She was wearing a dark green and white dress that fell above her knees, brown tights barely visible over the thick brown boots that rose up to her knees. She was also wearing a heavy coat, complete with gloves and a pink scarf that was wrapped tightly around her throat. From the looks of her pink nose and cheeks, she had been standing there for quite some time.

Climbing into the car, she slammed the door shut before turning to Alfred with malice in her bright green eyes as she stared down the muscular American that was cowering down in the driver's seat. "YOU BASTARD! I STOOD OUT THERE FOR TEN FUCKING MINUTES IN THE FUCKING SNOW!" She screamed, somehow pulling a heavy frying pan from somewhere within the confines of her coat and brandishing it before his face.

"I-if you hit me we can't drive home!" Alfred squeaked as he ducked his head, the frying pan barely missing his face. The irate woman seemed to mull over this for a moment as she tucked the cookware back into her jacket, but the anger was still apparent on her face.

"Well what took you so long?!"

"I-I lost track of time…" She stared at him for a moment, her mouth open and brows furrowed as if to say '_are you fucking serious?!_' before she turned away in her seat with a loud 'hmph', turning her angry glare out of the window to stare at the snow covered landscape.

Sending a quiet 'thank you' to whoever was above that saved him from the busty woman's wrath, Alfred sat back up in his seat and pulled the car into drive, slowly easing his way out of the streets surrounding the campus. Silence was momentary as Elizabeta's anger seemed to disappear as quickly as it had appeared and she was back to her normal, chatty self, gesturing idly with her hands as she talked. She went through an hour's worth of conversation in the span of five minutes, ranging from the other actors to how classes were to Gilbert and then back again to her fellow actors. As the duo pulled to a stop sign, Elizabeta was currently explaining how awkward it was that one of her exes was in the cast with Alfred nodding occasionally when the car was suddenly jolted forward with a violent sound of metal grinding against metal.

Instinctively, one of Alfred's hands gripped the steering wheel and the other shot out in front of Elizabeta's chest to brace her for the impact. They both jolted forward, her body slamming into his hand even though the seatbelt managed to hold her back somewhat and Alfred's chest knocking against the steering wheel. It wasn't a hard enough hit to cause whiplash, but they had most certainly been rear-ended by another car. A bewildered expression took over both of their faces; Alfred's own normally tan face was pale as he looked over to his passenger, blue eyes darting over her to make sure that she was uninjured. Other than a slight tremor that was shaking her body, she appeared to be fine if not startled.

"The hell?!" The American growled, lips set into a tight grimace as he looked into the rear-view mirror at the car behind him. From what he could tell, the car that had hit them was an old Buick and the driver was slightly slumped behind the wheel. "Fuck," he growled as he began to unbuckle the seatbelt. Running a gloved hand through the thick blonde hair, he cast one more glance over at his friend who was turned in her seat to glare angrily at the driver behind them. "Stay in the car, kay?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. The only acknowledgment that he got was a slight nod of her head and with a sigh he forced himself from the car and into the frigid air.

Snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked to the rear-end of the car and surveyed the damage. A door clicking to his right announced the other driver's presence as they shut the door and slowly made their way next to Alfred to look at the mess of conjoined metal. It wasn't a bad wreck, just a minor fender-bender. Probably because of the recent heavy snowfall and the lack of grip on the roads.

"Bollocks." The other person said, obviously male. "I'm so sorry," he grumbled this time and Alfred's ears were able to pick up on the presence of a true English accent – London if he could guess. "I tried to hit the brakes, but the car just slid on the snow." Glancing over at the man at his side, Alfred found himself immediately taken aback at the sight of the other though he tried not to show it in his face.

The man beside him was fucking gorgeous from what he could see of him. _What the hell was it with the European men and being fucking gods?_ He was slightly shorter than Alfred with a messy mop of dirty blonde hair that stuck out from beneath a woolen driver's cap. His face was pale and thin with a feminine look to it and it appeared that his body was the same way with the way that his clothing and coat fit snugly on him. This man had to be a model of some sort, or at least that's what Alfred concluded. Once again, 'thank you's' were sent heavenward again as he put on his most charming smile for the beauty beside him.

"It's no problem at all, I completely understand." He grinned, getting a look from the other man. The blonde hair fell partially into the most uniquely colored eyes that the American had ever seen. They were green like the grass or trees after it had rained, so alive and full of color that Alfred found himself just staring at the man before a scowl on the man's features reminded him to compose himself.

"Uh, listen. I work for Germania Law Firm," the surprised look on the Brit's face betrayed the worry of being sued, but Alfred who was forever the hero, quickly dispelled that, "so I'm not going to worry about calling the cops or anything. We can just handle this like men, right?" He asked, flashing another one of his radiant smiles at the pale man who continued to look upon him with a mixture of annoyance and relief. The said man nodded slightly before looking back to the damage on the two cars then turning his head to look around them at the scenery. Fortunately, no one had stopped or really noticed the two men so there was no scene.

"Alright then! We can just trade information and stuff like that and that way we can have our insurance companies and everything work it out."

"Right," the Brit murmured and with a quick glance at the American, he trotted back to his car. Alfred could have sworn he saw a twinge of pink in the man's porcelain cheeks and it could have been the cold, but he was determined to give himself the benefit of the doubt that he had made the pretty man blush. Returning to his own car (after getting a glimpse at the other man's ass and oh hot damn! Dat ass!) and opening the door, Alfred shot a huge grin towards Elizabeta who just smiled smugly at him and handed him a piece of paper and a pen from her purse along with his insurance card.

"He's a cutie." She grinned as Alfred tucked the items into his pockets and fished around in the console for his wallet. Giving her a bigger grin in response, he quickly shut the door and scrambled back to the rear of his car and continued to look at the damage while stealing glances at the other's lower half that stuck out of the car. Oh yes. He could totally play this cool and maybe even get the guy's number in the process. This was turning out to be the best car wreck he had ever been in.

After another minute or two of searching, the Englishman finally withdrew from his car and slowly walked back over to Alfred, making sure to carefully pick his way through the snow and follow his previous footprints. With a small smile, he fished out his driver's license and insurance card, holding it out to Alfred who traded it for his own and leaned over the trunk of his car to take down the information. As he took down the policy number and insurance provider, he decided to play it cool and provide some casual conversation in hopes that maybe he could reveal something about the other male.

"So, you're from London?" The smaller blonde bolted up and looked at Alfred with a flicker of confusion over his face, eyebrows furrowing from underneath his hair (or at least that's what Alfred thought by the way his nose wrinkled). "I can tell by your accent," he stated simply with a sheepish grin at the other blonde. "I grew up in Mildenhall. It's always nice to hear a real English accent, ya know?"

The other male scoffed as he turned his attention back to his paper and wrote down Alfred's information with a practiced hand, "Ah, Mildenhall? I suppose on the Air Force Base?"

"Yeah, my Dad was a pilot."

"Hmm."

"Hey!" Both men's heads shot upwards at the sound of a encroaching female voice. Leaning out of the driver's side window, Elizabeta waved her hand at Alfred cheerily, who returned her cheerful demeanor with a deadpan expression. "Can I turn on the car? It's freezing in here!" She called, making sure to wiggle her body to emphasize her point which only succeeded in making her shimmy her bosom at the two men. A twinge of red creeped onto Alfred's cheeks as he waved his hand dismissively, replying with a "yeah, yeah, sure" before he glanced back at the green-eyed male. Yep. There was a definitely blush on the other guy's face now. _Damnit Liz. The guy probably thinks you're my girlfriend now…_

Glancing over to the other's driver's license to take down the nap and address, Alfred found himself frozen with his pen pressing into the paper and starting to bleed ink in one spot. Staring at him was a picture of the other male, uninhibited by winter clothing and staring at him with huge bushy eyebrows. Blinking a few times, he dared to look at the name on the license and nearly choked on his own tongue which created an alarming sound that brought the Brit's attention to him.

_Arthur Kirkland_.

Jerking his head towards the other, Alfred found himself gaping like a fish caught out of water as he stared at the other who stared back with a confusion and concerned expression.

"Are you okay?!" He asked, holding the pen still in the air and Alfred's license in the other.

"Ar-Artie?!" He choked out, blue eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he looked upon the small man who stood just a few feet away. Here he was, the joy of his childhood standing a few feet away in the snow in fucking Boston in the middle of February, and he was just gaping at him like a fish. How could he have not recognized him?! I mean, sure, Alfred didn't look at him that way when he was younger, but he had recognized that Arthur was pretty and teased him about it, but damn! This was something completely different!

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed further and his lips set into a tight line as he looked upon the nearly convulsing American who was rapidly pointing at himself in an effort to communicate since he couldn't trust his mouth to work properly. Alfred then gestured wildly at his license that was still held in Arthur's hand and the Brit's gaze followed his directions and fell onto the license. After scanning it for a moment, Alfred watched with sheer joy as the confusion on Arthur's face dawned into realization and then shock as he brought his intensely green gaze up to look into Alfred's face. His mouth fell open and small puff of air escaped from him, his eyes opening wide.

"Al?!"

**A/N: A few notes!**

**Hooray for Arthur and awkwardness! This chapter was really fun to write, but at the same time it took foreeeeeeeeeever. Sorry about the wait, but the next chapter should go a lot smoother and should include much more dialogue.**

**Thanks so much for all of your reviews! You guys rock!**

**I meant to change Virginia to Texas, you'll see why in later chapters. Al's family lives in Texas, just for clarification.**

**I grew up in small-town Texas, so I know what I'm talking about! Unless you live in a larger city – there's hardly any soccer teams.**

**Also, BU-W is Boston University – West. They have an excellent theatre program, or so my research told me.**

**And the case I talked about in the last chapter is actually a real case in Massachusetts.**

**Reviews are wonderful and the more I get, the more I like to write. ;)**


	5. Fun in the Police Station

**A/N: Thanks for being patient with me. I have literally written and rewritten this chapter more times than I would like to count. I started out angsty and then my mind turned it into something humorous. Or at least, I hope it's humorous. ** **Enjoy.**

**Warnings: A lot of foul language.**

Alfred had a guilty pleasure of imagining his life as a movie; and now with his chance meeting with Arthur after ten long years on a snowy roadside in late February, he thought that life had finally dealt him the movie scene card. After all, he only imagined the moment as they realized each other's identities to be a joyous occasion. Dreary bleak sky above and powder white snow falling all around them as they stared shocked into each other's faces. A joyous proclamation and a hug that would shake the Earth as two friends reunited in the most wondrous of ways.

But Life's a bitch - a cold-hearted cruel bitch at that.

So now, instead of hugging his childhood friend on the roadside and catching up over the last ten years with an immeasurable excitement, they were sitting at the local police station with a bruising cheek and mussed hair. Arthur was on the bench opposite of him, scowling with all of the ferocity that his pale face could manage – especially with the large bandage on his forehead.

See, what had happened was the complete opposite of Alfred's imagination. They had just learned the other's identity while exchanging information and after exclaiming each other's names, Alfred, in his sheer excitement lunged forward to hug the delicate-looking Brit and instead of being met with open arms, was met with a hard slap to his cheek. He had staggered backwards, feet crunching in the snow that had piled on the road with a bewildered expression; eyes wide and mouth agape as he stared at the furious blonde in front of him.

"TEN FUCKING YEARS!" The said blonde screeched and lunged at Alfred, throwing a hard knock to the already injured cheek. And damn, Arthur had a fucking great left hook. "You just disappear and after ten years you expect me to hug you?!" He shouted again as Alfred brought his hands up to counter the attacks. By some miraculous event, Elizabeta had caught wind of the commotion and before Arthur could land the next punch, he staggered backwards following the sound of a dull thud. It was then that the astonished American noticed a frying-pan-wielding woman standing at his side; breathe puffing into the arctic air as she glared daggers at the nearly unconscious Brit.

By another miraculous event, Liz had apparently called the police to report the accident when Alfred had stepped out of the car and it was at this time that they decided to grace the trio with their presence. Which is precisely how they found themselves sitting in the police station… The officers had laughed when they saw the two being carted in like common criminals, most of whom had known Alfred due to his assistance in the world of criminal justice. He had heard comments along the line of 'who in their right mind would attack a lawyer' but he waved them off and promised not to press charges on the sulking Englishman. It was just when Alfred thought that things couldn't get worse, that the doors to the hall that they were seated in burst open and in strode the last person that Alfred wanted to see.

Red eyes flashed with excitement and the pasty white skin reflected the fluorescent lights from above, making Gilbert look like the shining beacon of hope that he believed himself to be. But the self-important expression on his face quickly fell as those ruby-colored eyes locked onto a certain American. He quickly recovered with a toothy grin as he swaggered towards Alfred with all the self-importance that only he could manage (he fucking swaggered, the prick). "This is so awesome," Gilbert laughed as he looked over Alfred's appearance, the grin only increased as he saw the limp ice pack in Alfred's hand and the darkening bruise on his right cheek.

"Aww what happened Cowboy? You get into a fight with a girl?" His teasing was returned with a menacing glare from the injured American and a scoff from Elizabeta as she wandered back into the hallway holding two steaming cups of dark liquid. Handing one to Alfred and the other to the blonde on the other bench, she smirked at her boyfriend with a devilish gleam in her eye. "Sorry boys, they only have black coffee."

"What about some sugar or cream?" Alfred questioned as he looked at the black sludge that was to be considered coffee. A sniff of the horrifying drink confirmed his hypothesis that Elizabeta had definitely brought them road tar.

"Tough luck Princess." She chided, letting her eyes take a quick glance at the quiet Englishman who stared into his own cup with intensity, as if it would magically change into something more enjoyable. With an audible sigh, Alfred tipped his cup back quickly and did his best to shoot the road tar, preferring to burn his throat than to taste it. He finished with a grimace and peered into his cup with a look of vague disgust before turning his attention back to the albino who was hovering over him.

"If you're gonna keep starin' at me, you might as well kiss me."

"You wish. Now, why the hell did Papa Rome call me down here? I'm in the middle of a case."

"Same one?"

"Yeah, now answer the question, Brokeback."

"Dumbass Number Two rear-ended Dumbass Number One and then they got into a fistfight over the exchange of info." Liz answered, her long fingers tapping along the edge of her cup. Both blondes looked up at her with varying expressions of contempt, Alfred exclaiming "Hey!" and Arthur sputtering out "Excuse me?!", but she shrugged it off and swirled the liquid around in her cup.

"Hmm." Gilbert hummed as he looked between the two boys, his pale eyebrows furrowing together as he scrutinized the green-eyed man who was scowling at everyone and everything. "What's your name?" The green eyes narrowed to a cat-like slit as he turned his attention to Gilbert, Alfred watching in amusement from his perch. "Why the hell do you need to know?"

"Because I'm his lawyer," Gilbert said with a simple thumb-jerk in Alfred's direction to which he immediately protested, "Fuck you Gil, I'm my own goddamn lawyer."

"Fuck off Al, now what's your name?"

"Arthur Kirkland." It took a moment for the name to register through the 'Prussian's mind, his head cocking to the side like a confused puppy before the recognition of the name dawned on him. After all, he was Alfred's best friend and roommate for nearly four years. He had heard practically everything about this guy from when they were kids and all the up to how Al had ran into his older brother at the bar. Hell, Gilbert even knew all of Alfred's sexual partners (which he could barely keep track of – not that he cared in the least anyway, but whatever).

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, his toothy grin returning and his pale face brightening as he looked at his friend who just shrugged calmly. Alfred was so over this whole joyous reunion after being punched. "This is so awesome. Did you punch Al?!"

Arthur just looked stunned by the sudden proclamation that erupted from the albino, but quickly shook it off and gave a hesitant nod to his question. It was then that Gilbert really shocked him by cheering loudly and holding out a hand for Arthur to high-five. "That's almost as awesome as me! Ah hell yeah, we're gonna be such good friends! Anyway that punches Wonderboy over here deserves my immediate respect!" He exclaimed, shooting a shit-eating grin towards Alfred's direction before plopping himself down next to the shell-shocked Brit. "So why'd ya punch him?"

"Because I haven't seen him in ten fucking years."

"Fuck man, that's unawesome."

"You're telling me. And then he decides that he can just hug me and everything will be dandy."

"Dandy? Uh.. yeah. Al, you're an ass."

"I am not! I was excited to see him! And he fucking punched me! I'm still excited though.."

"Then his lovely girlfriend over there hit me with a frying pan."

"Woah, wait. Girlfriend?" "Girlfriend?!" "Girlfriend?" The three voices all chimed together, Gilbert looking completely confused and Alfred looking vaguely horrified while Elizabeta just continued with a deadpan expression. The two latter exchanged glances before Alfred let loose a frenzy of chuckles. "Sorry Artie, Liz isn't my girlfriend – she's all Gil's." Gilbert's face looked entirely too smug at Arthur's surprised expression as he looked between the three. Well, he certainly hadn't seen that coming.

"Ah, well..."

"So Al, no charges or anything?"

"Nah, we'll just file insurance or whatever. Blame it on the roads, whaddya think?"

"Sounds good. By the way, I meant to tell you earlier that there's a band playing at Swing City tomorrow night – hear they're pretty good. You in?"

"'Course I'm in. But only if I get to steal Liz for a dance or two." The two roommates conversation drifted off after that and into other topics as they chatted over completely random and useless things, or at least that's how it sounded to Arthur. He was still in shock by the mere fact that he wasn't being sued or fined for anything and that the two energetic men were talking loudly across the hall to each other about dancing or what have you. He had found himself staring into the black sludge of his cup that had already stained the Styrofoam inside and had long gone cold before he heard his name.

"Artie, did you even hear me?" His head snapped towards the blue-eyed male that was watching him with a grin despite the lovely bruise on his cheek.

"Calm me Artie again and I'll give you a matching bruise on the other cheek."

"I like him Al."

"Shut the fuck up Gil, I said do you wanna come with us?"

"Go where? I have things to do and I-"

"Dancing. Come on, it's at like ten at night. What are really doing at ten p.m?"

"Drinking." Arthur deadpanned, which earned a hearty laugh from the albino next to him.

"They have a fully stocked bar," Alfred grinned, his sapphire blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on, we haven't seen each other in ten years. Time to catch up, don't ya think?"

"How about you speak in proper English and then maybe I can understand what you're asking me." Elizabeta snorted from where she had sat herself on the armrest next to Alfred and flashed Arthur a smirk.

"The hell? Fine. Come dancing with us tomorrow night. Please?" Somehow, Alfred hadn't lost the kicked-puppy look from when they were children and miraculously, it still worked on Arthur somehow. With a heavy sigh and an overly exaggerated eye roll, Arthur grumbled out a 'fine' which produced yet another cheer from Gilbert and even Alfred this time as they two men went back to talking like two teenaged girls with ADHD.

**A/N: Hmm. So I scratched this one out and it's very rushed. I apologize. I kind of like skipping through things because they kind of live a socialite life and they do everything really fast-paced. I hope you all got that. Anyway, yay for the awesome Gilbert! I just love their friendship. Next you should see the return of a wide cast of characters and it's probably not the type of dancing that you're all thinking. Unless you paid attention ;)**

**Once again, sorry this has taken forever and sorry for the rush and just generally crappiness of this chapter. Reviews are lovely, of course.**


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